iKeep Falling
by Pieequals36
Summary: Sam falls. One-shot set during iBelieve in Bigfoot; ridiculously short.


**Title:** iKeep Falling

**Rating:** Pg

**Synopsis:** Another "missing" scene fic from me. Set during iBelieve in Bigfoot, when Sam and Freddie run off to put up their traps/cameras. I'm assuming the length of them being missing is a teensy bit longer than shown.

**Disclaimer:** It would be wrong if owned Freddie. So wrong and oh so right.

"_Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people __**falling**__ in love.__" – Albert Einstein_

"Oi, Mamma's boy," Sam hisses. Instinctively, Freddie's eyes roll back despite her not being able to see. He turns, gesturing for her to continue.

"I need your help," she requests. It sounds like more of an order though. He smirks.

"Aw, can ickle girl Sam not put up her trap?" he teases, his lips curling into a lopsided grin.

"Call me an ickle girl again and you're gonna resemble one by the time I'm through," she seethes, wiping some left over chilli dog sauce from her lips. His eyes are drawn to the soft red skin, pouting petulantly. His boy mind wanders and she loses her patience, blowing a loud raspberry.

"Fredtard, c'mon, I just need a hoist up."

She's disappearing into the trees, and despite all the worldly wisdom instilled in him by his mother, and common sense telling him following Samantha Puckett into the woods is a terrible idea, he finds himself moving behind. Somewhere he loses track of her, coming to an opening. Silence around him, internal panic sets in and he whispers out her name repeatedly. Suddenly there's a growl behind him, a soft pair of hands slipping up his shirt and nipping his sides. He automatically regrets the girly scream he lets out, chastising himself for allowing himself to be frightened by the now very amused blonde in front of him. She wails laughing, clutching her own sides.

"Your face," she gasps, doubled over.

"Can I just get you up this freakin' tree already?" he snaps. She straightens up, still smiling but nodding in compliance as she takes long strides to what is perhaps the most frightening looking tree around the clearing. He always found that about shrubbery, there was always one eerie tree, one that begged to be left alone. Of course she'd pick it.

He follows her over and stares at her blankly, before she gestures down to her feet.

"Think you can manage it Princess Fredwardo?" she asks, eyebrows raised. Another long sigh and he crouches by her feet, allowing her to use his hands as leverage. She's surprisingly light to lift and he looks up to make sure she's able to grab a hoist up from the tree. It's then he realises he's faced with her ass. Her ugly, fat...perfectly rounded, toned....ass.

In his face for what seems like an eternity.

_Goddamn puberty._

"What are you doing? Making friends with it?" he mumbles, his hands snaking to her calves, keeping her steady.

"I'm finding a steady branch Nub," she bites back, "Don't worry, your perfectly pressed shirt will be fine."

With that, her weight is lifted as she pulls herself up onto a think oak branch. She sits there for a while, evaluating the situation before beginning to climb.

And climb. And climb.

"Sam!" he calls, "Sam....don't you think you're going up a bit high? Sam!"

She keeps climbing even though she can hear is now desperate, girly cries beneath her. She has always had this fascination with being as high up as humanely possible, wanting to see the world from a different perspective. Reaching what could possibly be the highest branch, she grips her hand around the chipped wood but either her hand was slippery, or there was some odd gunk on the on the trunk. Either way, it slips from her grasp, frightening her enough to lose her footing and fall for several metres. She manages to catch some branches on the way down, slowing her fall but not stopping it. She hits something soft as she reaches the ground. A soft "oomph" comes from beneath her. Fumbling she presses herself up on her arms; everything hurts and her heart pounds in the confines of her ribcage. Freddie lies beneath her, propping himself up on his elbow and lets out a sharp hiss into the night air.

"Dude you ok?" she asks, concerned as she notices him cradle his head.

"I'd be better if I didn't have to catch your fat ass from falling," he mumbles, his fingers pressed to his war wound. He feels a fist connect with his already painful shoulder and he roars in pain, glaring at her.

"That's for callin' my ass fat," she tells him, wild curls falling over her face. He's about to argue when she presses her lips to his cheek, smacking lightly.

"And that's for saving my fat ass," she gives a crooked smile and notices that instead of cradling his wound or his shoulder, his fingers are brushing where her lips met his face. She blames the fall, but suddenly she feels dizzy and unbalanced.

Kind of like she's falling all over again.


End file.
